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User blog:WayfinderOwl/BTM: 'Tis The Season 4
School Afterhours Hammering on the door woke me and Pete up. Half awake, and groaning, I rolled over and climbed out of bed. My hair was a mess, and was all over the place. I slipped my feet into the shoes I had left there the night before. Tying the laces was too straining for me right now. “Who is it?” groaned Pete. “Josh, Pete, get up. We’re evacuating,” Ivan called through the door. Yep. That’ll do it. “Evacuating!?” Pete and I exclaimed. I pulled my jeans on over my pajamas, and fetched my jacket off the back of the chair at the desk. While Pete put some clothes on, I headed out to see what was going on. Chaos everywhere. Kids pushing and shoving, heading for the doors, while prefects yelled. Pete came out. We were shoved into the thick of the crowd. I ended up behind Gary. He glanced back at me, then looked away. Heading out the door, I saw the reason for the fuss. Snow. Loads of it. So much, there was no need to walk down the steps at all. Snow so solid, it didn’t crumble or give under my step. The crowd met and mingled with the girls. Becky pushed her way towards us. Her hand grasped tight around Gary’s, giving it a tight affectionate squeeze. For a brief moment, I could have sworn, his fingers curved up and gave her hand a squeeze in turn. To stop the pushing and shoving, the student body was split into two groups, each going through one of two entrances into the main building. In the foyer was a heap of sleeping bags. Just going along with the rest of the group, I grabbed one from the heap. Ivan pointed over to the auditorium. Our little performing arts gang of myself, Pete, Ivan, Eunice, Becky, Gary, Sarah, Pedro and Melody split off, heading down towards the stage, where we made our camp. Becky had managed to snatch away a lantern. It was set down in the middle of our circle, in lieu of a campfire. “What the hell is going on?” I said. “Evacuation procedure,” Gary muttered. “No shit,” I blurted out. “The main building is the safest place,” Ivan explained. “Plenty of food and water to last months. Bathrooms. Plenty of space for everyone. Only thing it doesn’t have is beds. Sleeping bags fill that.” “I guess the play is off then,” I said, glumly. “What makes you think that?” said Becky. “If we are stuck in here until the storm subsides, how are we going to get footage or costumes? Or anything we need?” I explained. “We will just have to be extra creative. Really everything we need is right here. That isn’t our only problem. Just like us, everyone is going to claim their own turf. Chances are we will have to call in favors to get just about anything.” “First we need location footage,” said Eunice. “The staff room is just as good a place as any.” “That won’t work,” said Gary. “And yesterday is proof of that.” “Yeah, pity about that fire,” I said, falsely pretending that I didn’t know what happened. Gary shot me a glare. “You know what could be a good place to start,” Pete muttered out loud. “See if those girls still want to help us. Find Milo, if he is here. Get the whole gang together before we focus on the play.” Hiding behind her paperback copy of The Great Gatsby, Sarah said, “Hold auditions. Kids might join in, because they have nothing better to do.” “You’re right, Sarah,” Pete praised. “Maybe this storm is the best thing that could have happened.” There was a slow scratching somewhere in the gloom, sending shivers down my spine. Everything about this situation was a little too horror movie for my tastes. They were good to watch, but not to be in. Everything from the fact that it was who-gives-a-crap-o’clock at night, big dark school building, snow falling thick and fast which could seal us inside for months, nearing a hundred or more kids who would rather split off into cliques than work together, and every single noise amplified in the empty halls. I heard it again. ''Tap-tap-clink-clink. '' “You want to leave now?” asked Pete. “Shush,” I told him. “Josh, what are you—.” My hand went over his mouth. A distant yet close by tapping seemed right under us somewhere. Everyone listened on bated breath, eyes searching for the source. The tapping continued every five seconds like clockwork. Two taps. Two clinks. Occasionally a static crackle of the P.A. system. “We’ll go investigate,” Gary decided. “But not all of us,” Becky cut in. “If we all leave, we will return to find the auditorium infested with a swarm of preps. They would screw over anyone to make camp here.” “I’ll go,” I volunteered. “Yeah, me too,” said Pete. “And so will I,” said Becky. “Alright, I’ll join the crew,” said Gary. His lips curved up at the edge, before returning to their normal scowl. “I have a hunch where it is, and I’ve been there so many times, I’ve lost count.” Everyone else was left in the auditorium. Provided by Pete, I learned the turf rules for emergency evacuations. Any clique could claim any room or corridor, except for the cafeteria, as long as it was empty. Even if there were just one member of their clique inside, everyone else had to respect that and move on, regardless of hierarchy rankings. We headed down the corridor using the lights, of many smaller camps of non-clique kids, to guide us. Some just had a smaller group of friends talking. Or two asleep in sleeping bags. Snores and hushed voices sounded louder to me. Gary lead the way, tip-toeing, and gesturing for us to do the same. Becky had to take off her boots, because as she pointed out, it was impossible to tip-toe in wedge heels. Near the janitor’s closet, we had to stop so she could put them back on. She shivered, pulling her jacket around her tight. Not that I blamed her. Why she chose to have her sleeves rolled up I’ll never know. Denim was hardly the warmest fabric to wear. I slipped off my jacket and my scarf, offering both to her. “Are you sure?” she whispered. I nodded. “Yeah, I wouldn’t offer otherwise.” “Won’t you be cold?” “Probably, but I’m used to it. My parents never provided me with warm clothes. Wearing a t-shirt in winter is normal for me.” Becky took the coat, but not the scarf. “Okay, I’ll wear it until I warm up a bit, then you can have it back.” She slipped on my jacket, zipping it up and blocking out the cold. Our part of four headed through the door into the dark janitor’s closet. A torch went on, blinding us with the light’s glare. It lowered. The crazy psychotic janitor looked to us. He threw the torch, which I caught, then raised a hand pointing towards the stairs leading towards the furnace. Everyone backed away resisting the urge to shit a brick—except Gary who had the dead eye stare of a corpse. Seriously. His expression didn’t move. The dim light did nothing to change that. Every few seconds, we were looking over our shoulders to make sure the creepy janitor didn’t follow. The voice of a girl came from ahead. We passed the furnace, heading into another room, in the opposite direction to the hole. In some kind of storage room, with metal rod and wooden plank constructed shelving units, filled with boxes of who knows what. A dirty shit hole of a room, making the Tenements of New Coventry look almost clean. “Come on, Milo,” she said, in an attempt at being seductive tone. “No one will catch us…” “Toni, no. I don’t want to, alright,” said Milo. “If one of your sluts offered, you would!” she snapped. They fell silent at the sight of us in the door way. “What are you lot looking at?” demanded the taller black girl I had seen with him in the parking lot. “Antonia, leave it,” said Milo. “They’re all cool by me. What’s up, guys? Still going ahead with that play thing.” “We are, but that isn’t why we are here,” said Becky. “We heard some clanking noises upstairs, and wanted to come check it out,” I explained. “My bad,” said Milo, holding his hands up. “I thought I saw a beat up car engine down here, wanting to blow it up in the hole. Turns out it was a water heater.” “Is there anyone else sneaking around here?” asked Gary. "I saw the two hilarious guys a while back. Asked if they could borrow some matches to see if the basement has fire alarms,” Milo said. “Oh. Townies?” asked Pete. “Nah. Looked a bit punk like.” “So, no cliques down here,” Gary stated. “We may as well go looking for them,” said Becky. “Search for Kendra, Louisa and Kenzie while we are at it. I bet they are holed up somewhere with their clique.” My eyebrows shot up surprised. “They are in a clique bigger than just the three of them?” “Yeah. Art Freaks. They are an alright bunch of girls.” “Well, we better get looking, but first, Becky you’ll need a new pair of shoes, because you can’t sneak all over the school with just your tights on your feet.” Becky smiled. “Thanks for your concern, but I’ll be fine. If you’re so worried about me, we can go to my locker. I keep all my gym clothes in there. Last time I left them in my gym locker, Mandy either got someone to pee on them, or did it herself.” “Give me the word, and I’ll make her pay for it,” said Gary. “I told you last time, and I’ll tell you the same again; no. Everyone already thinks you’re a crazy lunatic.” I chose not to say; he is a crazy lunatic. ^^^^ In the dark, trying to walk really slowly near the staff room, towards Becky’s locker. It was the last one, before the wall curves away for absolutely no reason what so ever. Someone had left a lantern down here. Pete let out a squeal, which was muffled by his own hands. He bumped into something just out the reach of the light. A sniffling noise made my blood run cold. We weren’t alone. Milo snatched the lantern off the ground, and shone it on Pete, and a very upset looking Sarah, clutching a book to her chest. They were on the floor next to each other. “You alright,” I asked, offering Sarah my hand. She took it, nodding her head, as I helped her to her feet. “What were you doing down here? The auditorium is safe,” I said. “I needed a new book…” In her small hands she had a copy of Jane Eyre. I assumed she kept some of her books in her locker. To keep her safe, we let her come with us. It was already awkward with Antonia clinging onto Milo’s arm, like some kind of weird growth, without her repeatedly giving Becky and Sarah the stink eye. We heard voices coming from the clothes store. Sarah tip-toed over, because she was the smallest, peeked over the counter. She returned telling us, “Bullies.” I was cool with them, and we posed no threat. We walked right by them. Becky listened at the door of the geography classroom, before telling us there was no one in there. We went through the foyer, passing by the girl’s bathroom. No one in there. Down the corridor, I heard hushed voices again. A boy whispering something. “Lex, cut it out, we don’t wanna set off the fire alarm.” I crept down the corridor. There was a lantern in the corridor, that cast a little glow towards the door, where two greasers were trying to smoke a sneaky cigarette. They had opened the door a crack, blowing the smoke out, but not enough to let any snow in. The boy, I couldn’t see him. Only his hand, as the light touched it. The girl had long blonde hair, flowing out of a blue beanie. The blonde greaser girl let out a laugh. Stubbed out her cigarette, and shrugged. She shut the door, walked over to the lantern and fetched it from the ground. Headed into the English classroom, followed by her male smoking buddy. I returned to the group, to tell them I knew where the Greasers were. The moment we reached the top of the stairs, we found the Nerds. All of them in the main office, with Bucky stood outside. He pointed a gun like object, with bottle rockets sticking out of it. “Keep on moving,” he threatened. Were he not holding a weapon that might just work, I would have argued with him. Instead, taking a turn past the trophy case, towards the maths classroom. Without any regard for anyone else who might be trying to sleep in the corridors, the chortles of condescension flooded out the door, left wide open. “Preps,” Milo said, through his teeth. We went across the walkway, doubling over to the east wing, to avoid the Preps—and refrain from crossing paths with Bucky again. No one in their right mind would want to be near the preps. The boys bathroom was clear. No one there. Approaching the music room, I heard voices inside. I approached the door, pressing my ear to it, trying to listen in on the conversation within. "This chick walked among the kids of the camp. Slept in one of the cabins. Snuck out and stole stuff to trade. All seemed normal, except she was as cold as death." "Man, it ain't five minutes in and I'm already bored. I've heard cheerleader gossip scarier than this, man!" "Oh, yeah? At the end of the summer she took some reckless kid to a mine shaft. There hidden in a chamber was her lifeless body, and the chick had gone. Never to be seen again." "Sweet lord, where you hear this from?" "My cousin told me." The first voice sounded like Ted Thompson, and the other had a thick Texan accent. I’d never met the latter. In the background of their conversation were the occasion “dude” or “bro” comments, along with “a hot chick.” “Jocks,” I mouthed to the others. Our last stop was the art room. There was no sign of the three girls Kendra, Kenzie and Louisa anywhere. I hoped they weren’t near the Preps. “Trust me,” said Becky. “If they are anywhere, it will be here.” She knocked on the door. From inside, someone replied, “Enter!” Becky opened the door, and I stepped into what seemed like a dream. All girls. Eight of them. A tall blonde dressed like a Jock in a letterman. A girl with her brown hair tied into a knot on the top of her head. A shorter Asian girl, who sat cross legged on the floor, her fingers were pecking away at a laptop resting on the floor in front of her. A brown haired girl sat on a couch, writing in a book by lantern light. A little girl with pigtails hiding behind a desk, sketching the Asian girl. “Oh, honey, no,” said Louisa, to Antonia. “Those clothes are all wrong for you.” Antonia raised her fist, to lunge at the red haired girl. Milo held her by the arms, pulling her back out the classroom into the corridor, shutting the door behind them. Louisa rolled her eyes. “Some people are just so touchy.” “Oh, hey. Haven’t got anywhere to stay?” asked Kendra. “You can stay with us,” said Kenzie. She winked, but it was unclear if it was aimed at me, Pete or Gary. We chose to ignore. “No, we are fine. We have the auditorium,” said Becky. “We were searching for where the cliques are, so we can still go ahead with the play,” I explained. “Oh, you are still going ahead with that?” Kendra commented. She turned to the blonde. “Cheryl, as the oldest, you are in charge during our absence. Girls, keep hold of our territory.” “Right,” said Cheryl, nodding. With Kendra, Kenzie and Louisa joining our party, we headed out the door into the corridor. I turned to Kenzie. “You offered to flirt with boys to help us,” I said. “Could you do that now? Bucky is outside the main office. It would be nice to get by, without him pointing that weird gun at us.” “Anything for you, gorgeous,” said Kenzie, giving me a flirty smile. Alone, she headed down the corridor, removing her tie. In front of Bucky, she said, “Oops!” dropped her tie on the ground, and spent a good long time picking it up. Bucky stood there stunned and open mouthed—some nerd boys came out to watch. None of them noticed us walking past them. At the bottom of the stairs, Kenzie joined us. “That was fun,” Kenzie commented. “I love messing with them like that.” We all headed into the auditorium, to start figuring out our next move. Category:Blog posts Category:WayfinderOwl's Fanfiction